The Ghost of a Prince

Chapter 21

"He tortured, killed, exhorted, can you blame me for feeling relieved when we thought such man was gone forever from our lives?" Lot learnt forward in the table. All eyes were on Arthur, his face was unreadable, but he swallowed hard.

"No, of course not?"

"Can you blame us for being wary now that his apparent son comes from out of nowhere claiming himself to be Uther's legitimate heir, I can see the resemblance, boy, but are you sure those are boots you want to fill?"

Even Lancelot, who most of the time tried to make situations lighthearted or treated with friendliness rather than the way a knight should treat the king, had an ashen face. Emrys had already given up on the possibility of a peaceful conversation. Arthur pressed his lips into a line and took a deep breath.

"Stay for dinner," he began, smiling as if had come up with a brilliant idea. Emrys could have hit him with one of the books of the library that spoke about propriety and timing. "I prepared a feast to welcome you, there's no poison in the food, I swear it, on my own life,"

Lot leant back in his chair. Emrys could have sword he saw his lips twitch. "Why would I stay?"

"So tomorrow we can negotiate the treaties you did with Uther."

There was a pause in Lot's breath. Morgause stared at Arthur with open eyes.

"You think this is a game? A young boy trying to step into a king's shoes." Morgause questioned, her voice cutting the air.

"I had nothing to do with Uther growing up, he is my father, but not in the same way Sir Ector is." Arthur explained. "But I ended in the role, and I must fulfill it, you said the treaties were unequal, let's renegotiate them then, make them equal." He made it sound like it was the simplest thing. Lot's eyebrows formed a line in his forehead. "I have no plans to intimidate you, and you are free to walk away, but it's not fair of you to blame me on the sins of a man I have never met... Your Majesty."

The way he spoke, rather than with the authority and the firmness that Uther used to have, reminded Emrys of Igraine. She had always had a kind voice, even as she was giving commands or making herself heard. Her voice had also been firm and certain. She hadn't needed to shout or to intimidate people to get them to listen or to like her.

"Very well," Lot nodded, standing up. The chair dragged across the stone floor. "I suppose I might see you tomorrow, Arthur, I will be awaiting for that feast."

He left the room, following a servant. Morgause walked by his side this time, throwing Arthur and Emrys one last piercing gaze. Once the door closed behind him Lancelot laughed and patted Arthur loud on the back, shaking up the boy who sunk in his chair and looked like if a weight had been dropped on him. Emrys sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Rather than following Lancelot's playfulness, Arthur turned to Emrys. He looked nervous, and a couple years younger. "Emrys, could you explain to me what he meant?"

Emrys tensed his lips, a cold sweat covered his forehead. He knew the conversation would probably come up at some point. He had expected he would have the time to prepare himself for it beforehand. Lot had made the beginning easer but had left him with the hardest part.

"Before Uther married your mother, she was married with King Gorlois, they had two daughters, Morgause and Morgana." Emrys began, thinking it was better to begin with the most relevant part.

"My sisters?"

He had talked to Arthur about him having two older sisters but had never dwelt too much on their names. Or dwelt much on them at all. Any time he wanted to give him more detail he would get a hollow feeling and spend the night looking at a map in the middle of his chamber searching for a particular name to come up. It never did.